


The Attention of a Strong Woman

by ASOUEfan



Series: Mixed Mina One-shots [2]
Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/F, Girl Crush, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, Pre-Apocalypse, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29351370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASOUEfan/pseuds/ASOUEfan
Summary: Running into Wilhemina Venable in the supply closet, you dare to ask what you're dying to know, but Mina gets the better of your terrible attempts at flirting.(This is a Repost as I'm gathering the Mina one-shots into one series.)
Relationships: Wilhemina Venable/Original Female Character(s), Wilhemina Venable/You
Series: Mixed Mina One-shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154882
Kudos: 20





	The Attention of a Strong Woman

**Author's Note:**

> Repost as I'm gathering the Mina one-shots into one series
> 
> Requested by r0an0ke, who wanted "A Venable x Reader fic, where the reader is Venables assistant pre-apocalypse who loves to wind Venable up at work, but she shows them whose boss" 
> 
> It turned out less teasing and more wanton-flirting, but still! Haha.

It happened in the supply closet. Striding in without looking, running over the mental list you’d tallied of all the items you needed to restock or replace for Miss Venable. Your mind was - rightly so, on your work. The last person you expected to find in here, was Venable herself.

Your breath hitches instantly.

The red head stares at you hard, just finishing a slug of water from a metal flask, empty pill packets of some description lying on the shelf. She touches the back of her hand over her shining lips, pressing a wet lip-print onto the leather of her fingerless gloves. “Lost, are you?”

You watch her swipe the foil packets into the pocket of her lilac jacket. “No Miss Venable,” You murmur, not taking your eyes off her. You fold your arms, then drop them to your sides. She would pick up on that gesture as nervousness, or a defensive posture. You’d learnt with Miss Venable not to let her get the edge over you.

“Then what are you gawking at?” Leaving the open-cap flask where it was a moment, she stalked slowly through the narrow gap between shelves and boxes of office supplies, focusing her dark eyes on you with fixed determination. You feel as though you might stumble if you dared pull your eyes away. The rest of the world seemed the blur either side of her.

“Sorry. I needed some things for the office - “ You blurt out, her cane stopping between the toes of your flat ankle boots, her body too close to yours to be polite. You inhale her lavender perfume and it makes your pulse feverishly beat, learning another little fact about her. You stored it away in your heart for some possible future, where you could use it. Impress her.

Miss Venable tipped her head just slightly, her long red ponytail slipping over one shoulder. “And of course you needed them, at the _precise_ moment I was in here?” She smiled, as though she knew something you didn’t. Your hands wring behind your back, palms sweating and the oppressive heat she was giving off.

Does she know how you want her? Your mind playing tricks on you again; the childish crush on your boss nothing but a fantasy best kept locked away in your mind, surely?

Your gaze falls to her lips, the way she parts them just a little, her tongue resting there. The faint way she lisps on _precise_ , you know its her tongues misplacement. You draw tall. This was it. You were alone, no-one could overhear you. You can’t orchestrate this to happen a second time. “Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask suddenly.

There. Fuck it.

Her eyebrows raise. “Why would you ask me a thing like that?” One hand reaches from her cane to adjust the collar of your shirt, centring the line of buttons on your chest. You watch her toy with you, and all you can think of, is how having her attention is _everything_ you wanted it to be.

It wasn’t Venable barking orders at you. Or berating you in front of Jeff and Mutt as the cause for whatever delay they were complaining about. It was her full, and complete attention.

“You always wear gloves. I cant see if you have a ring on,” You reply, holding your nerve. You slip your hand into hers and lift it from your shirt,rub your thumb over each of her knuckles slowly, feeling for a ring through the material. She watches _you_ now, and lets it happen. Mina is just as curious to see how bold you were going to be, because for every slip you made, you would pay for later with more than just overtime.

Mina was setting you up a gauntlet you didn't know you were running.

“Just because I may or may not wear a ring, that does not mean I’m single.” Miss Venable purrs slowly in response, inching closer still until there is mere breath between her lips and yours. She bites her bottom lip in, surveying what she can where your shirt falls open. Oh God, you hope you have decent underwear on.

You tremble, excitement fear and anticipation swimming headily through your senses. “Are you?” You whisper, barely able to hold it together. You want to kiss her, Venable looks like she's going to kiss _you_.

But she pulls back. Straightens, as much as her back would allow, that slight dip to her shoulder giving away the awkward angle in which she was forced to hold herself. “Yes.” Miss Venable admits, without a quiver of shame. Better that way. “Again, why would you ask me - “

“Because if you weren’t then - then there would be fisticuffs in the car park over you,” You break into some terrible flirtatious laugh, needing the tension to ease because your goddamn clenched so hard between your legs you’re worried you’ll get cramp. You shift your weight between your feet and wring your hand round the back of your neck, blushing at the confession.

You’re not sure if its horror or delight you feel, sensing that she's enjoying your awkwardness. “Fighting for my honour?” Miss Venable allows herself to smirk at your tenacity.

“Something like that.” You sling your hands on your hips, a little more confident. You tip your chin up.

“How very medieval.” Venable teases, tapping her cane indicating she wants you to move. You step back, unwilling to give ground completely to your boss. Sure, she can leave the supply closet if she wants, but she's not leaving this moment.

“Or romantic.” You grin.

But in your clamour to stare into those eyes a few previous moments longer, you don’t notice her hook the end of her cane behind your ankle. As you step back again you catch your ankle, yelping as you trip and your arms flail catching and knocking a box down with you as you fall on your ass right in front of her.

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment, and you hurriedly bring your thighs together as she steps one pastel purple heel over you. What was she doing? Just as you’re about to ask she catches your ponytail with her cane, pinning your head and shoulders to the floor with a strong jab.

You squirm sightly trapped between her ankles, your body sprawled out beneath her. With tight lipped scorn that has your core tightening even harder, Miss Venable chuckles slowly, darkly. You swear by the way her eyes settle at the apex of your thighs, she _knows_. “You’re too easy.”


End file.
